University, Summer in London and Living Abroad | 2018 in a Nutshell

Dragging five suitcases across Lille's poorly signposted train stations was not the glamorous way I expected my French term to end. My seemingly sensible choice of booking the Eurostar back to the UK in order for me to carry all of my purchases now appeared rather irrational as this resulted in having to pause every few steps to take a break. It took me about 10MINS to walk 100 metres from Lille's main station to the International Station - a drab, open airspace, which appeared so unwelcoming that part of me was glad to be heading home. However, as I barricaded myself in my seat with luggage towering around me, I couldn't help but smile at the memories that I had collected in the past six months.

The third term of university was a blur to me. I got into a somewhat insane routine where my flatmates and I would wake up at 6:30AM, walk through Spoons to grab a breakfast-to-go and catch the 7AM bus into campus and be sat down by 7:45AM ready to study. Even then the library would be filling up and the closer to exam season the harder it became to find a spot. We'd stay in the library until about 10PM, only having breaks to talk about how stressed we were and how we wanted to cry. We were fueled by panic, a fear of failure, and a great deal of coffee. We'd all picked up smoking in dire attempt to subdue our stress levels, not clicking the Menthols if we really wanted that hoarse voice the next day. It was a time of sheer exhaustion but also a huge adrenaline rush that kept us powering on. Our being felt so purposeful. It felt like I was truly working on my future, and towards my long-term goals.

Out of my friendship group, I finished my exams first. As usual, I had applied for some summer schemes, and this time I was lucky enough to be selected in order to participate in one of the best organisations that I have ever been part of. ArtFund is an independent British charity which raises funds in order to support artwork. It also offers a National Art Pass for students, which enables young people to visit famous museums either free or at a discounted price. I was one of five students around the UK who were selected in order to promote the pass in time for the Museum of the Year Awards, which would be held in the Victoria and Albert Museum. My four other friends and I travelled, with all expenses paid, from London to Glasgow to Hull down to Cornwall and back to London again. We took photos and posted them on our social media, showcasing all the activities that each museum put on for us. It was an amazing experience as I got to meet so many interesting people who were so passionate about art and with whom I could have deep conversations with about the meaning and history of each piece.

It wasn't long after I came back from the trip that I was packing my bags up from Leamington to head off to London. Little did I know that this summer would be the best one of my life so far. I was fortunate enough to have been offered a room in Kew - acquired through a friend of a friend. Michael was a very kind man 0 I always refer to him as the granddad that I never had. My nine to five job took up the majority of my day, but whenever I came home, he would always be there to have a cup of tea and a chinwag. This would often turn into an hour-long conversation, covering any topic from Lucian Freud to the meaning of life. Interning was a whole new experience for me. I thought that I would spend my days making coffee and be anyone's dog's body, yet by the end of my two-month placement, I was the first point of call for anything related to Marketing. Whilst it got quite stressful or tiring, to say the least, I did fill all my spare time with fun activities. The first few weeks were spent getting my bearings around London. I'd visit central, and all of London's tourist attractions. However, the novelty soon wore off. It was then that I began new activities, such as attending conferences, meeting new people and especially my favourite activity which was trying new restaurants. I truly believe that three-quarters of my spending money went on food. I split my time 50/50, living partially at Michael's, and partially in Wandsworth, at my at-the-time boyfriend's house. I had an incredible amount of freedom. I was living in the buzzing capital, with a decent income and endless opportunities. It truly pained me to leave, but when the time came, my boss threw a wonderful leaving party for me on his boat that was docked on the Thames - so it wasn't all that bad.


Ho*, my boyfriend, took me to the airport when I left. Although we arrived over two hours early, our parting was so emotional that I ended up only passing through security at the time my flight was due to leave! Thankfully, I was travelling with Ryanair, so the flight was late anyway. Ha ha.

Having my parents waiting to collect me from the other side was a delightful moment. I hadn't seen my mother since before moving to London, and I hadn't seen my father since Easter. I spent a few days in Ginoles, my hometown, recovering and having some much-needed parent-child time. A few days later, they drove me and dropped me off 368km North West, to Bordeaux, where I would be spending three and a half months on my Erasmus exchange.

The hardest part of my time in France was not, as I imagined, making friends. For all of those who follow my blogs, you'll know that this is often my number one fear. The hardest part of my time in France was, in fact, finding enough time to do all the things that I wanted to do with my friends (shock!). Along with my 21-hour week at university, I also wanted to explore everything Bordeaux had to offer. From museums to art galleries, to private launch parties - I would want to do them all. It wasn't just a need, but a thirst to grow. Within the first couple of days at university, I established a friendship group of 10 girls and 1 guy, which stayed solidified throughout the time there. We did everything together. I had never had a friendship like this before. I had always shied away from big friendship groups, since my last one in Year 9 was not the best of experiences, as the people were extremely toxic and I suffered severe bullying from it. Therefore, whilst cautious at first, I realised that having a supportive group like this was an amazing feeling. We were all very outgoing girls, which meant that we'd always plan to do new things every week. Whether visiting Christmas markets or nipping down to Spain for a few days, my agenda was always jam-packed.

You can therefore understand why I crashed when I returned to Bournemouth, my family home. I have been so on the go the past few months that now that I don't have activities planned, my body has gone into complete shutdown. I'm currently allowing myself time to recover - a well-deserved break. Until 4 days time, of course, when I'm off on a new adventure. Next stop? Dubai.

Yours,

March Blog

I always explain these moods as 'waves'. Sometimes I'll be myself, or whom I consider my 'true' self to be: a bubbly, confident girl who is full of energy and positivity.

Sometimes, however, I'm like how I am today.

It's hard to express how I feel, which makes it hard to know how I can 'fix' this feeling. I'm not lost, but I also feel that I do not have a direction or purpose at the moment. I feel that I am floating through life, on a cloud made of marshmellows, a bit of a sticky situation but also a bit too comfortable in being there.

As many of you might know, the University of Warwick is one of the 61 universities to strike due to the staff pensions protest. This isn't going to be a blog about that, however, but a blog about how the students are affected by this. Focusing on me (of course, the owner and subject of all these blogs hahaha...).

After returning from Reading Week, the strikes immediately affected me. I had already had a week 'off', with what I would consider a well-deserved break, but I was well rested during this period and I was in the right mindset to come back to study. However, things didn't turn out the way I expected them to unfold. Whilst the first week of the strikes felt like a 'normal' week, as the days went on, more and more of my teachers wouldn't turn up to the lessons, only sending us a rushed email the day before apologising for the delay and telling us why they were striking. What interested me the most was that in these emails were no notes on what work we could do to fill our time, nor any hints that our classes would be rearranged. I told my Father this, who was outraged by one of the top universities to be running this way.

At first, I didn't mind the time off. It meant that I had more spare time to study and catch up on work, but now that I have done this, I'm feeling quite lost. It's not that I would enjoy a full 8 hour schoolday like I was put through in secondary school (oh, the trauma!), but I would also very much appreciate a structure to my days. It has felt like an extended-weekend, one that drags on for a suspicious amount of time. It has made me, as a person, extremely lazy. I wake up late, potter about the house for a bit, see my flatmates and before I know it, it's half midnight and time to go back to sleep, just to repeat the whole thing over again the next day.

It has become tiresome, and it has made me realise the importance of structure in one's life. It has been said that Monday mornings are only a bother to those who do not enjoy their job, and I can completely agree with that statement. Whilst getting up at 7:30AM is a pain, at least it means that I am out of the house by 8:00AM to get to my class. It means that I am being productive with my life, and that my commitments give my life structure and purpose. Weil once stated that one of the key requirements for having a fulfilled life is the idea that one has a purpose. One is appreciated for what one does, and one is acknowledged for one's contributions. What am I contributing when I am lazing around in my bed all day long? Absolutely nothing.

Let's share my unpopular opinion: I like attending my seminars and lectures. I like going to university, just as much as I enjoyed going to school every day from Monday to Friday. I like having structure to my life, and I like being an educational environment because I feel like I have a purpose when I am answering questions in my classes. I clearly remember my schoolmates complaining about school, yet I would be that person who would confidently state that they loved school, and were grateful for being in school. I obviously got snears, but what we ought to remember is that we should be grateful for having the opportunity to learn. Others, even in the 21st century, do not have the chance to go to school, let alone university. Therefore, I scorn on those who miss their seminars in order to lie in or play videogames. It is only in times when I do not have my classes that I realise that they are of the utmost importance in my life, and how grateful I must be to have the opportunity to attend classes which inspire me, intellectually stimulate me and open my mind the vast ideas and opinions of the world.

Yours,

My 19th Birthday

I can't believe it. I'm nineteen. It all seems surreal. I feel so old, yet I can already hear future me laughing at myself thinking that I deem nineteen as 'old'. For me it's the last years of teenagehood, so it's quite a big thing.

I am ever to lucky to have an amazing boyfriend who came up from Exeter to visit me. He stayed over the weekend until Thursday, so I managed to spend a lot of time with him before as well as after my birthday. But this is all frivolous - let's get to the big day. 

On Tuesday morning, I awoke with the curtains being opened and the morning sunlight caressing my face. It wasn't hard to encourage me to get up - I was way too excited to stay in bed and rest. I quickly showered whilst Adam*got everything ready. When I came out, Adam had all my presents laid out on the bed. I can't even describe my excitement. As people who know me know, I am obsessed with pandas and the majority of my presents were panda themed. They ranged from panda mugs, to panda face masks to a panda onesie! I can now cuddle my bubby and we can be two pandas together. Who could tell who is the real panda?!

Fortunately, and rather coincidentally, my lectures were cancelled and I only had to attend one seminar that day. Classes finished at 3pm and I had a few hours of napping before having to get ready. Adam had tried so long to keep my birthday surprise a secret, however just the day before, his mother called up and accidentally spilled the beans on where he was taking me as she got the dates mixed up.

'How was the ballet?'

When I first heard this I started laughing. Crazy laughing. I just looked over at Adam and laughed some more. I knew he could never keep anything from me.

I wore my long, navy blue Topshop dress. I guess it's my go-to for all nice social occasions. I paired it with my black choker, my black high heels, and I wore the eye shadow Everly* got me for my birthday. Adam wore a classic black suit which he looked dashing in.

Before the ballet, Adam took me to The Cube in Birmingham. It is a Marco Pierre White restaurant, with 25 floors and the most beautiful aesthetics. We got a table with a view, which cost Adam £10 alone. I personally wouldn't have spent that much, but then again when you see the view over Birmingham on a clear night as it was, one may waiver. The service provided was outstanding, as one would expect it to be, as was the food. I ordered a 10oz Sirloin steak, topped with escargot in garlic and butter sauce. Adam got Mushroom Risotto which was apparently delicious. For dessert, I ordered New York Baked Cheesecake with Fresh Strawberries and Adam got Mr. Coulson's Sticky Toffee Pudding. Additionally, our waitress brought out a complimentary brownie with 'Happy Birthday' written in dark chocolate on the place for me. It was a lovely surprise and I feel that it's the little things like that which make the whole experience a whole lot more enjoyable.

Time flew by at the restaurant. The atmosphere was really relaxing, and before we knew it, two and a half hours had gone passed and if we didn't rush we would have been late for the performance. Adam started dragging me, but ended up carrying me the majority of the way between The Cube and the Hippodrome. We had to run through backstreets, cross motorways, but somehow we managed to get to the ballet on time!

It was our first time seeing a ballet performance and it was such an amazing experience. We saw the Nutcracker, a timeless classic, which we greatly enjoyed. We sat on the balcony, which for me was an advantage since it meant that we could observe the entire stage as well as the orchestra below. The story of the ballet, if one could say ballets ever have storylines, was that a magician came to a Christmas do, and gave one of the girls, Louise, a nutcracker toy. She loved it so much that she spent her night holding her nutcracker under the Christmas tree, but it soon turned into a magical world where she shrunk and danced with all the toys. The transitions between each scene were very smooth and I loved the way a character's emotions were expressed through their actions. I came out feeling awakened, and wishing that I too could dance like them.

All in all, I had a perfect birthday. Thank you to everyone who was there for me on my special day and sent me birthday wishes.





* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

My First Football Match - Derby x Wolves

I was never really that interested in football. Not that I didn't enjoy the sport, or watching 22 sweaty men run around a ball, but my family were never really into it so neither was I. However, I love to try out new things, and on Saturday, I went to the football for the first time.

My friend Steve* is an avid Derby fan. I think that he's supported the Rams since he was four, and from spending time with him I got enthralled by his enthusiasm and passion for the sport. One day, he noticed that Derby was playing an away game against Wolverhampton, and as it is relatively close to our university, we thought it a good idea to go!

After a, let's say, "heavy" night out in Leamington Spa, we pulled ourselves out of our (separate) beds and got the bus, then train, to Wolverhampton. The journey was cheap for the both of us - £4 on the bus return, and £4 for the train. What shocked me the most when we got off the train was how cold it was. In my stupidity, I thought it would be best to dress fashionably rather than sensibility, and I ended up shivering all the way to the stadium. Steve gave me his Derby scarf which did help considerably, as well as make me look a little more integrated into the crowd in which we became part of. 

We got tickets for the front bench and were therefore able to see the action up close. I feel like we both appreciated this since we're both kinda blind anyway (especially me, whose eyesight is so terrible nowadays...anyway, I digress). Before the game started, I flipped through the program Steve kindly bought for me. It was apparently the best design he'd ever seen and it now holds a position within my memory box. The game soon began, and it was off.

To begin with, I didn't really understand what was going on. Steve and the men behind us started chanting and I bobbed along to try and not seem too out of place. However, after the first goal from Derby (they ended up scoring two goals in the first half - something of a rarity for this season) I became really into it. Well, as into it as I could have been when my toes were glacials. I started recognising the songs that the crowd were singing and bobbed along in time, and cheered my favourite Derby player - Will Hughes, obviously. 

All in all, I really enjoyed myself. Derby won 3-2 against Wolves and Steve and I returned to Uni in good spirits. I would love to see another game one day, but next time I'll be sure to wear a few more layers.

* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

A Series of Unfortunate Events

For Everly*

Not sure why but Everly has never really come out partying with us. It's either been the excuse of Volleyball or the fact that she's overwhelmed with work. Both of which are lies, because why would one ever spend £9,000 to get active and work towards a first? Nevertheless, this Friday, Everly decided it was time to finally push the boat out and come to Everly for Steve's pre, pre-birthday celebrations.

For these pre, pre birthday celebrations, one of Steve's friends came up. By car.

This is a big thing because since coming to uni, I've had to struggle with the use of public transport and walking everywhere. Therefore, having someone who not only had a car but was willing to drive us places was a massive bonus.

Before going out to Steve's pre, pre-birthday celebrations, we decided to top up on alcohol. To do so, Steve's friend drove us to the local Tescos. When we arrived, Everly and I automatically got a cart and started food shopping. After all, why not take advantage of the fact we could finally do a big food shop without needing to carry it back?

We spent a solid hour and or so going through each and every aisle picking up whatever took our fancy. I mean, Everly went and got a sick pack of Coke cans - c'mon. After what seemed like a mere five minutes (which, by the way, was probably an hour), the three boys who were sharing the car with us came and stared in utter shock at what we were pushing in front of us.

"NO WAY ARE YOU COMING IN THE CAR WITH ALL THAT".

And with these damning words, the snakes left us to walk home with our cartload full of shopping.

But rest assured, this was only the first of our unfortunate events.

After a bit more shopping and a lot more impulse buying, we arrived at the tills. Everly went first, and beep beep beep. Sorry! No alcohol allowed since EVERLY WENT AND FORGOT HER ID! What was worse was that the cashier girl was younger than us and she had the audacity to tell us that Everly couldn't buy her alcohol, despite having adequate University ID.

This was the second unfortunate event, but there is more to come.

We obviously tried to fight the case but we soon gave up, due to pure lack of effort in fighting with a bloody minor. It was now my turn to go through with my copious amounts of food and alcohol. But alas!! Because I was seen as more than an acquaintance with Everly I wasn't allowed to buy my alcohol even though I had my ID with me.

WOE WOE WOE.

For the fourth unfortunate event in the series of unfortunate events, we had to carry about 10kg of food in our bags for more than 10 mins in the freezing cold. I was only wearing a t-shirt, which wasn't the wisest of my ideas, and one of Everly's bags broke on the way back, so we ended up on the floor sobbing surrounded by food and no alcohol.

What a way to start a Friday night out.




* All names in this blog are fake in order to ensure the privacy of my friends and conceal their identities. However, the characters are all real people and the events actually happened

Pre-Uni Stress

First things first: I got into Warwick University.

Wahey!

Before writing this post I actually scrolled back a bit and found my post from when I visited the establishment with my parents. I had called it my "dream uni" and I am so grateful that they accepted me and I got the entry requirements for my course!

On the 18th, results' day, my Facebook feed was filled with posts from my friends publishing which unis they got into. It was an exciting experience for all - and those who may not have obtained their first choice still managed to find some great places through Clearing. Fast forward a week, and those who are going to uni all have a firm knowledge of where they will be spending the next three or so years of their lives.

Once knowing their universities,  many students joined their appropriate uni Facebook group and started group chats with their peers. I had previously joined several of these chats and made acquaintances with many on my course. However, due to my current lack of Internet  (I have to travel to the next village in order to get Wifi from the local café), I'm unable to be constantly online and replying to messages. Therefore, my friendships have become frail, to say the least.

Just this afternoon, I quickly checked the group chat, and found out all the participants had bonded with each other - a lot. The whole chat seemed to have their own inside jokes and nicknames with each other. I was but an onlooker to their little world. They were already meeting up with one another, and had planned outings as a group in order to create memories before studying at uni together.

This made me feel quite sad, and above all, lonely. It's fairly pathetic and melodramatic that I write this all on my blog, and I pray to the Heavens Above that none of these people were to find my blog. However, their closeness has only made me feel more distant from them. I have been, unintentionally, excluded from their tight knit. I feel alone before even starting uni.

I have to keep reminding myself that there are others out there who will be freshers,  like myself, who may have not even been part of this group chat and they too will have no friends on the first day. Even so, my mind is filled with panic about what's to come. The biggest fear is of course that of solitude. I'll be away from home, from my parents, from my boyfriend. My friends will be off at uni getting a whole new set of friends, and the little voice in my head tells me that they'll no doubt forget all about me. What's more, I'll be away from safety and where I feel comfortable. However, I ought to keep reminding myself that growth comes with going outside one's comfort zone. I will be able to push myself into situations which are different and thus exciting. I will find a new people, and new activities to occupy myself. I really ought to embrace this opportunity. And get a grip.